We spent a couple of nights in Taha‘a after a brief two-hour shopping stop in Raiatea. We enjoyed some beautiful snorkels in the Coral Garden, but the view of Bora Bora shimmering on the horizon was simply too enchanting to resist. At some point it became clear that not going would have been rude.

So off we went.

Our original plan was to stay in Bora Bora for only a few nights before making the big 8–10 day jump to Tonga. Then we looked at the weather forecast. Then we looked again. Then Mark looked at it. Then my gut looked at it. None of us were particularly impressed.

A strong high-pressure system with fairly enthusiastic winds initially seemed like it might work, but both Mark’s instincts and my own gut feeling suggested it could turn into a rather uncomfortable passage, with some sizeable waves on the beam. Sometimes you simply have to listen to your gut, and this was one of those times.

Besides, there are certainly worse places to wait for a better weather window.

So we spent the last few days snorkeling with manta rays, exploring the lagoon, and generally suffering through paradise while waiting for the weather to improve.

For the boys, it was another major first: their very first scuba-diving adventure! (Yes, we found a dive school willing to let Nino have a go.) Apparently they did so well that the instructors told us they performed better than many adult beginners and even suggested starting them on their PADI certification.

As proud parents, we briefly considered adding “professional divers” to their CVs.

With a possible weather window opening on Wednesday, however, we decided to limit ourselves to one more dive and save the full certification—and the studying that comes with it—for another time.

Still, who else gets to say: “I was seven years old when I did my first scuba dive in Bora Bora”? What a childhood!

Meanwhile, we parents took the opportunity to explore the main island a little. My version involved jogging slowly; Mark’s involved walking fast enough to suggest he had somewhere important to be. All of this happened in the early mornings before the little pirates emerged from their bunks and started demanding breakfast.

Bora Bora itself is a fascinating place.

It’s home to some of the most luxurious resorts in the world, many of them located on the outer motus surrounding the main island. But some were built directly on the main island too—and “were” is the important word here.

Perhaps because of COVID, several of these resorts never reopened. Massive stretches of abandoned beachfront remain, lined with derelict bungalows slowly being reclaimed by nature. We’re talking about major international operators: Club Med, the InterContinental (which also left behind a similar property in Moorea), and others. Companies that must have invested millions into creating these resorts simply walked away, leaving them behind to decay.

The result is kilometres of stunning coastline occupied by increasingly sad-looking ruins.

And you can sense that this matters to the people who live here. Nowhere else have I seen residents out at six in the morning, carefully picking up every piece of litter and raking the sand along the roadside to keep their island beautiful. While they are doing their best to care for the island, these giant abandoned resorts sit quietly in the background, slowly falling apart.

It’s a real shame.

Yet once you leave these stretches behind, Bora Bora reveals the traditional Polynesian charm found throughout French Polynesia. The island itself is simply magical, with its dramatic peaks rising out of impossibly turquoise water. Most visitors staying at the operating resorts will probably never see this side of Bora Bora. They arrive, admire the crystal-clear lagoon, sip something cold with a tiny umbrella in it, and conclude that paradise is doing just fine.

And to be fair, from most angles, it absolutely is.

I hope a solution will be found one day, though it may take time. Until then, Bora Bora remains a place of striking contrasts: extraordinary natural beauty, world-famous luxury, and a few reminders that even paradise isn’t entirely immune to life’s complications.

And today, June 4th, it’s finally time to cast off!

The weather forecast looks reasonably cooperative for the next four days before the next low-pressure system comes marching through, so we’ve decided to split our trip to Tonga into two legs.

Our next destination: Aitutaki in the Cook Islands.

We’re planning about four days at sea to reach what is often described as one of the sketchiest harbors in the South Pacific—the only way into this tiny slice of paradise in the middle of nowhere. What could possibly go wrong?

With a bit of luck, a helpful tide, and some cooperative waves, we’ll make it safely through the pass and into the lagoon.

Fingers crossed, fair winds, and I hope you come along on passage!